


The Things I Do

by hollyandvice (hiasobi_writes)



Series: Holly's Round Eight H/C Bingo Card [22]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 04:29:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11661639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiasobi_writes/pseuds/hollyandvice
Summary: The pain is gone, but the phantom memory of it lingers like smoke in his clothes and gunpowder on his skin after a firefight. It lingers and threatens to choke him while he stares at the empty cell surrounding him.Daniel's not there.Tortured by Ba'al and alone in his cell, Jack ruminates on scars, pain, and why the visible marks sometimes heal the fastest. Coda to episode 06.06 Abyss.





	The Things I Do

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still finishing my bingewatch of SG-1, but I made it to this episode and it was BEGGING to be ficced even though I'm sure it's probably been ficced a million times before already, and by people much more talented than I.

The pain is gone, but the phantom memory of it lingers like smoke in his clothes and gunpowder on his skin after a firefight. It lingers and threatens to choke him while he stares at the empty cell surrounding him.

Daniel's not there.

Somehow it's that, more than the memories of physical pain and torture that make him feel weak. Somehow, it's the knowledge that some small part of him had been grateful to Carter for giving him an out when she told him Kanan had information crucial to taking down Anubis if only because it might give him a chance to live long enough to see Daniel again that makes him feel weak. He'd never have given in otherwise. Somehow, it's the knowledge that this, his pain and suffering, had been enough to draw Daniel out of the gusts of wind and the whispers of shadow that Jack has been subjected to since he Ascended, rather than Jack's pleas and desperate prayers. That physical pain, something Jack has long since become accustomed to, is what brought Daniel to his side once again rather than the soul deep _ache_ he's had to live with that has not yet faded despite his efforts. That Daniel would come to rub salt in the wound of his departure and yet refuse to save Jack from the pain by just _ending it_.

It's all that and yet the knowledge that none of that is out of character for Daniel that makes him wonder how much longer it will take for him to be willing to succumb to Ba'al's demands.

Jack leans his head back against the wall. He didn't ask for this. Didn't ask to give himself over to the Tok'ra to try to save his life, didn't ask to be dragged to some distant planet on some renegade mission against his will, didn't ask to be abandoned to Ba'al's torture when Kanan failed in his task. He didn't ask for any of this, and yet, here he is, left behind and lost to anyone that might have will or way to save him. Not even work Daniel's comfort any more, apparently, though he can't say he's altogether too surprised by that. It does make him wonder when Daniel came in the first place if he was just going to leave when Jack needed him most, but then, little Daniel does has ever made sense to Jack.

The phantom pain ebbs and flows, and Jack can't tell if he's going to collapse in on himself like a black hole or tear himself asunder, a supernova in his pain. The worst is the way there's no evidence of what's been done to him, no burn scars or healing lacerations. Just the same skin he's always had, pockmarked with the marks of a thousand missions gone awry. There, dead center in his chest, from the last time he'd been stabbed with a Rod of Anguish. Or there, in his right shoulder, the pale, faded scar from a bullet wound he can barely remember. Symbols of his service and badges of his failures. Ones that Sarah had touched with reverence for his continued safety, ones that Laira had touched with curiosity and wonder for their existence, ones untouched by any hands but his own.

Idly, he wonders why the sarcophagus didn't heal these scars, but he casts the thought aside, unwilling to face the potential answers. Whether it is a limitation of the technology or a mark of how deeply ingrained in his sense of self these scars are, the answer doesn't matter. All that matters is that he can count his scars while he waits for Ba'al to bring him back for more torture. One, two, three, four, and still no Daniel, nothing but his pain and the echoing silence of the cell. Not even the hallucination of Ba'al's Lo'taur to keep him company. She was beautiful, in a way, both brilliant and impossibly brave in her own way too. Jack can see why Kanan would want to come back for her. But she does not appear before him, either to comfort or console, and, truly, Jack supposes that is for the better. Five, six, seven, eight, and still no Daniel, but the phantom pain is starting to ebb and the silence is broken by footsteps above his head. He barely has the presence of mind to move into position before they shift the gravity but it doesn't matter. He didn't ask to be turned into a damn Tok'ra, he didn't ask to be captured and tortured, he didn't ask for Daniel to come waltzing into his mind like some sort of blissfully ignorant all-knowing bastard, but he did ask for one thing. One thing. _I don't want to see this cell again_ and Daniel didn't do it.

Jack holds onto that knowledge, desperate and not a little angry in between recitations of name, rank, and service number and broken answers to Ba'al's questions, and somewhere, deep in the back of his mind, Daniel's name becomes the refuge he never thought it could be. He feels Daniel's name spill from his lips, a prayer and a benediction, everything that they could have been and now can never be filling the syllables with all the strength Jack has left. He lets it go, lets everything go, and sinks into death one more time.

When they drop him back into his cell (didn't ask for this, didn't want this, how _dare_ they—) Jack scarcely bothers to change position, arms crossed over his chest, as though he has the strength to hold himself together. The knowledge aches deep in the core of him, a banked, burning desperation that feels gentler than the bonfire blaze it should be. A quiet acceptance that death is nigh and only the hope that Daniel might grant his last wish to keep him from giving Ba'al everything he wants. It hurts. An ache, a burn, a _knowing_ that at least part of this was his fault, his own nobility and desperate need to never leave anyone behind that had driven Kanan to give into his instincts and come here to save her. The certainty that it's his own desperate wish to bring Daniel back to his side even knowing that it's impossible that had led him here. To this place. That Kanan had felt Jack's own need to save the one he loved and had seen a chance to save the one it loved in Daniel's place, as though that might fill the gaping hole in their shared soul. Jack can hardly blame the damn thing for breaking for it as soon as it could, welcoming death in the place of potentially bringing worse down on the woman it loved. Kanan may have failed, but at least he had tried. What has Jack done? What did Jack do, standing there as Jacob tried to heal Daniel but let the most important person in his life slip through his fingers? What did Jack do but listen as Daniel begged for Ascension, stop Jacob from saving him, watch Daniel walk away? All he ever does it let the people he loves walk away.

He feels the shift in the air in the room. "Daniel?"

"I'm here."

"You were gone." And the words feel loaded coming out of his mouth, but Daniel seems to miss the implication, speaking of his temporary absence from the cell instead of the constant aching _nothing_ he's left behind in Jack's soul. Jack doesn't press, because he'd let Daniel do this, had given Daniel what he thought he wanted, but he does ask again. Stops himself just short of begging Daniel to make this all end. And when the lights flicker and Daniel stands beside him, talking about fighting chances, Jack knows he'll forgive Daniel again, even when he doesn't want to. Even when it tears him apart to know he's letting Daniel walk away again. He didn't ask for this, but maybe, just maybe, it was worth it to see Daniel again, even if saying goodbye again tears his poorly mended heart back into a million pieces.

It's not enough—it will never be enough until Daniel is at his side again—but, for now, he'll live to fight another day. And that, if nothing else, is a victory worth celebrating.

**Author's Note:**

> [Come hang with me on tumblr!](http://hollyandvice.tumblr.com/)


End file.
